Message in the Snow
by Mittens no Hikari
Summary: [Oneshot] Separated on Christmas, Joey and Serenity wish there was some way they could talk to one another. But with miles between them, how can a six year old boy and his little sister find a way to send a message?


Hello, all!

I felt inspired to write a little one-shot despite all the homework I'm supposed to be doing over break. This is Joey-and-Serenity centric, and—well, you'll see.

_One-Shot_

**Message in the Snow**

They say no two snowflakes are alike.

This bit of wisdom, however, was far from the mind of Joey Wheeler, who sat on the slick, icy sidewalk, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, and proceeded to kick the curb with all his six-year-old might.

"Stupid Mama... stupid Daddy... stupid Christmas... stupid house..." With each new item on his obviously extensive list of stupidity, he gave the pavement another vicious blow with his heels. His tousled blond hair glittered with the falling snowflakes beneath the glow of the streetlight under which he sat.

A single car crawled slowly by, its tires slipping a bit in the slush that covered the road. The sight of it filled Joey with rage—not because of who was in it, but because of who wasn't.

"Stupid car!" he shouted as loudly as he could after the departing vehicle.

The car, of course, did not stop.

Suddenly Joey's anger flagged and the tension flooded out of his small shoulders. "Stupid world..." he murmured, but his heart wasn't in it.

Gently from within his quilted red jacket, he extracted a framed photograph, handling it reverently, if a bit clumsily, in his mitten-clad hands. His little sister's hazel-eyed smile peered up at him.

Joey forced a gap-toothed smile of his own, just in case Serenity could see him through the picture somehow. "Hi, sis," he whispered, his breath making a tiny puff of condensation in the frigid air. With the thumb of his mitten, he wiped away a snowflake that had landed on Serenity's—on the _picture_ of Serenity's—face.

"I really thought Mama would bring you back for Christmas..." Joey's smile turned lopsided and faltered slightly. "But... maybe she was gonna and she just... got lost or something... 'cause I don't know where you are, so maybe she doesn't either..."

A car alarm went off in the distance. Joey paid no attention.

"And if she did get lost I can find you," he assured the photograph. "'Cause I'm good at that. I could prob'ly even drive Daddy's big car all by myself and get you, only Daddy won't let me have the keys."

Joey blinked rapidly, unwilling to let his little sister see the hot tears that were beginning to collect in his dark eyes. "An'... an' then when I come and get you... we can have another Christmas with all of us there, 'cause we're s'posed to be a family." He nodded vigorously, as much to convince himself as to convince Serenity, and then looked up at the sky, watching the snowflakes fall.

"All I gotta do is find you," he whispered. "Wherever you are."

* * *

In a city somewhere, at a distance of not too many miles—but all too far for those who had no way of traveling those said miles—a pair of hazel eyes squinted and focused determinedly on the snowy lump their owner was constructing. The tip of a tongue poked through the hole left by a missing front tooth, and chestnut-colored pigtails shimmered with snow.

"Serenity." Her mother's voice was amused. "What are you doing?"

Serenity did not stop working, even for a little tiny second, because she had to finish what she was doing quick because otherwise she might not get it done and then Christmas wouldn't _really_ have come even though there were presents and everything and a big plate of cookies left over from Santa.

"Serenity, sweetheart." Her mother came closer, looking with some puzzlement at the mass of snow. "We should go in soon. It's getting dark."

Serenity shook her head so had her pigtails slapped against her face, which was rosy from the cold. "I has to finish," she informed her mother, tilting her head and critically assessing her creation before adding a mittenful of snow to the left side.

"My." Her mother had the smile in her voice that meant she was actually happy instead of when she pretended but you could tell she wasn't because she sat there with the little sparkly tears in her eyes and her lips kind of trembled a little like she wanted to cry. "And what is that going to be when you finish?"

"A car." Serenity stuck a twig decidedly into what was most likely the front of her car and looked at it for a moment. Her sight blurred slightly, but she was used to that and waited for a moment until it cleared up—or at least, cleared up as much as it ever did.

"A car?" Her mother nodded slowly, a smile on her face. "Yes, I see it. It's a beautiful car, Serenity. Where are you going to drive in it?"

"To get Joey."

Her mother's smile faltered. "Oh, sweetheart." She knelt in the snow and put her hand on Serenity's shoulder. "I know you miss your brother, but we can't go see him."

"I know. Our car doesn't go there. So I is making this one so we _can_ go see him." Serenity smiled hopefully up at her mother.

"Honey..." Her mother embraced her. "We're not going to see Joey any longer."

Serenity's smile vanished, wiped away by those words that were colder than the blast of icy wind that whipped through the twilight air. "But... but I want to..." she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

"We can't. Joey's with your father and that's the way it has to be." Her mother hesitated. "I'm sorry, Serenity."

Serenity's eyes narrowed and she squirmed free of her mother's arms. "You are not!" she accused, stamping her booted foot in the snow. "You are not because if you were you would let me see Joey! I want my brother!"

Her mother stood, her face blank. "I'm sorry, Serenity," she repeated. "We can't go see Joey anymore."

Serenity stood stock-still for a brief moment and then, with a four-year-old wail, turned and kicked her snow sculpture as hard as she could, over and over and over until nothing was left but a trampled mound and a broken twig. Then she sneaked a glance to see if maybe her mother had changed her mind, but instead she'd turned and gone inside.

Serenity went silent. She didn't have to make noise to cry.

* * *

Beneath the streetlight, Joey was having a hard time keeping his own tears in check. Finally he slipped the photograph back into his jacket and put his chin in his hands, watching the snowflakes alight on his dark blue jeans before melting away.

He glared down at them. His friend Tristan told him that every single snowflake was different, just like people. But that meant that there was no one else like him right now who was sad and missing his sister on Christmas.

Like each snowflake, he was all alone.

* * *

Serenity's tears had slowed to sniffles, but she did not move from where she was nestled against the ruins of her snow car. She was absorbed in watching the snowflakes drift down from the cloudy sky and land on her purple mittens. Slowly she began to smile. If she couldn't drive to see Joey, maybe she could send a snowflake to give him a message!

She waited until a snowflake drifted onto the tip of her mitten and gave it a long look. Yes, this one would work. It was little and shimmery and looked kind of like a diamond only with more points.

Serenity brought it close to her mouth – but not too close or it would melt – and whispered, "Tell Joey I love him and miss him and Merry Christmas and I'm going to see him somehow."

And she flung it up in the air, and the tiny fleck of glitter disappeared into the night, with its message to bear.

* * *

A sudden blast of wind nearly ripped Joey's scarf from around his neck, and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting until it stopped. When it did, he opened his eyes to see yet another snowflake floating down.

It landed on his mitten. Joey blinked.

It wasn't just one snowflake. It was two, one clinging to the other. One small, diamond-shaped one that had somehow hooked itself onto a larger, sharper-looking one.

Joey looked at it for a long moment. Then, with his thumb, he gently detached the smaller one from the bigger and whispered to the large snowflake, "Tell Serenity I love her too and if you come back then I'll know that I'm not just making this up."

Wind seized it and carried it away.

* * *

Serenity wrinkled her nose as she scanned the night sky. She began to shift impatiently from one foot to the other.

And then—

Serenity squealed as a big snowflake alighted on her nose before sliding onto the end of her scarf. There was no doubt in her four-year-old mind that it came from Joey.

"I'll go see you," she promised the snowflake again. "I really will, and then we don't has to live in different houses anymore."

At peace, she blew the snowflake off her scarf and waved goodbye to it as it vanished into the night.

* * *

Joey was beginning to feel stupid. It had been a stupid little-kid idea that the snowflakes came from Serenity. It was just stupid, stupid, stupid.

Then—

A snowflake grazed his cheek and landed on his jacket, clinging to the fibers.

Joey blinked hard, staring down at it with a mixture of wonder and delight.

It was his snowflake. It was back, it had to be. It looked just like it! It had the spiky little point at the top and the longer ones around it and it shimmered just right under the glow of the street lamp.

Joey watched, smiling, as it melted into a droplet of water right above his heart.

It had to be the one he'd sent to Serenity—it looked exactly like it.

And after all, no two snowflakes are alike.

* * *

_Fin _

Well? What did you think? Please drop me a review, even if it's just to say you read it – but of course, I'd absolutely love some constructive criticism, whether it be what I did right or what I have to do better.

Thank you for reading, and thank you in advance if you review!

Have a wonderful and joyous holiday!

Mittens no Hikari


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